


a loved up light

by MyCupOfTea



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pre Relationship, Sex, Sharing a Bed, fear of the future, jack is comfortable around bitty even before they're together, little to no plot, surprisingly little sex for a story that revolves around a bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 11:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14056284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyCupOfTea/pseuds/MyCupOfTea
Summary: Jack doesn't function well when he first wakes up. He says weird things, has been known to refuse to speak in English until after coffee just for spite, and has kicked a teammate out of his bathroom for singing too loudly.So when Jack wakes up later that afternoon to Holster, Ransom, Shitty, and Lardo looming over him, he says "I liked the way I woke up this morning a lot better"."Dude," Ransom and Holster say in unison.------Jack squeezes himself into Bitty's bed at Samwell for a multitude of reasons.





	a loved up light

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I need to write something with substance!!!!!  
> The goblin that controls motivation in my brain and just wants to sleep: You will not!!!!
> 
> In all seriousness, this was a fun and pleasant break from a longer fic I'm working on that has a definable plot. Please enjoy this steaming heap of bed sharing. 
> 
> Title from [Imogen Heap's Between Sheets.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fk30IqidkOI)

Jack hadn't even really thought about the fact that Johnson was moving out of the Haus. He likes Johnson, ever since Johnson defended him to the older team members that were angry when Jack was voted captain. Sure, none of them really understood what he meant by "respect the character development opportunities", but the only other upperclassman to stand up for him was Sunny - the person who gave Jack his dibs.

So realizing Johnson is graduating is a little jarring. Finding out Johnson gave _Bittle_ his dibs is worse. But it makes Jack skate through, so to speak, the awkwardness and guilt still lying between him and Bittle, although Jack would have preferred to wait until Bitty wasn't still having dizzy spells, or able to stay upright for more than a few hours at a time.

But whatever.

Bitty is a surprisingly good roommate, besides the shower singing. He cleans up after himself, is always willing to share food, and doesn't hog the TV. He's also got the ounce of common sense and decorum that their other roommates lack.

It's a Thursday night, and since Ransom and Holster don't have class on Friday, they started a drinking game which has since expanded to include the frogs, Shitty and Lardo. Now, Jack has a drunk person in his bed sleeping it off and two more people on his floor, and he's too afraid of what he could find in Shitty's room with both Shitty and Lardo giggling. With a documentary to watch before the next day, he knocks on Bitty's door.

"Jack!" Bitty says, sounding surprised to see him while sitting at his desk. He's got bulky, professional headphones slid down around his neck instead of the usual Apple earphones Jack normally sees him with. "What's going on?"

"Hey, Bittle -- can I hang out in here for a bit?"

"Sure. Something going on in your room?"

"Uh, yeah. Got the frogs in there. I'll walk them home later, but they need to sleep a little bit of it off before that's feasible. But I've got to watch this documentary for class tomorrow, so. . ."

Jack likes the warm smile Bitty gives him.

"Sounds good. Are you okay on the bed?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jack assures quickly, eyeing the complicated set up Bitty has going on with his camera, laptop, and microphone. "Are you recording? I can go to the library or something --"

Bitty laughs.

"No, no, I finished recording a few hours ago. Just editing now. I said I would have it up tonight, so." Bitty shrugs one shoulder. "I have a power bar hooked on the post, if you need it."

"Thanks," Jack says, settling carefully on the comforter, trying to keep his feet off the bed as much as possible. He gets into a semi comfortable position with his laptop propped, and settles in to watch the documentary his thesis advisor assigned.

Even with his headphones on, he can still hear the occasional clacking of Bitty's keyboard and muttering to himself, and coupled with the monotone drone of the narrator he feels himself relaxing more into the bed, finally curling up on his side with his feet hanging off. He's remarkably comfortable given that he's been kicked out of his room by drunk freshman, self imposed though that might have been. He and Bitty were up ridiculously early for the first checking practice of the year, and Jack can feel the exhaustion settle in behind his eyelids.

Jack blinks awake at a light touch to his shoulder. Bitty is leaning over him, Jack's laptop closed under his arm. The room is dark except for the string lights Bitty keeps up all year round, and Bitty has changed into soft looking flannel pants and a ratty tank. This soon after waking up, the breadth of his exposed shoulders is distracting, his skin still tan from the summer.

"Jack," Bitty says softly, startling Jack's attention back to his face. "You're welcome to stay here for the night, but you sounded like you wanted to sleep in your own bed tonight."

Jack considers it for a moment. The comforter is body warm under his cheek, and the mattress feels like sleeping on clouds at that moment. But Jack knows he'll feel guilty kicking Bitty out of his bed, and that his back won't thank him for curling up like he has.

Jack sighs and stretches, rolling off the bed.

"Thanks Bittle. Sorry I fell asleep. I didn't keep you up, did I?"

Bitty rolls his eyes.

"It's nowhere near my bedtime, but it's coming up on yours. Are you still going to walk the frogs home?"

Jack sighs, taking his laptop back.

"Yeah. I better get to that."

"Well, text me when you get back, okay? I know _you_ don't have anything to worry about, in the dark, but I'm gonna worry anyway."

"Will do, Bittle."

 

* * *

 

Another surprise about Bitty: he's a good study partner.

For all his procrastinating, when it comes to working together on something, he makes sure to pull his weight. He's not condescending when you ask stupid questions about salt intake or different kinds of pie crust, and listens when you try to talk through your intro paragraph.

When it comes to getting his own work done, though, he's hopeless.

Jack, without taking his eyes off the flashcard he's making, slides a foot out to jab Bitty in the shoulder with his big toe.

"I don't think Twitter has a flashcard function," he says before Bitty can say anything.

Bitty huffs indignantly, tossing his phone next to Jack on the bed and turning back to his laptop.

"No, but I have just as much of a chance of understanding National Park tourism by scrolling through Twitter as I do actually reading the book." Bitty heaves a sigh.

"What are you learning about National Park tourism for?" Jack says with a heavy frown.

"For 'American Ecology'. It was either this or 'Fundamentals of North American Geology' for my enviro requirement. Atley said _she_ fell asleep in the other one, so." Bitty taps his fingers absentmindedly for a second before going on. "It was so hard to pick a major, so whenever I don't like a class I wonder if I made the wrong choice."

"You're not going to like every part of your major."

"What was your least favorite part of yours?" Bitty leans further back in his chair, resting a leg on the bed next to Jack.

"I, uh --" Jack grimaces. "I really fucking hate American history."

Jack had been slightly worried that Bitty would be -- offended, or have some wounded American pride - but Bitty throws his head back and laughs. Jack smiles.

"Here, give me your textbook. I'll quiz you."

They both go back and forth, quizzing each other on their upcoming exams. Eventually, Bitty moves onto the bed, and they sit with legs crossed, leaning against opposite walls. Jack isn't sure when he dozes off, but he's startled awake by a foot making swift contact with his shin.

"Oh, shit, sorry Jack," Bitty says, sleepily. "I think I nodded off for a bit there."

"Me too," Jack says, looking around for a time. When he fishes out his phone, it's only a half an hour later than he remembers it being, which isn't that bad. "I guess I should probably go to bed."

"Mm, you can't sleep through seminar tomorrow," Bitty says, curling up on top of the covers. "If _you_ sleep through it, then I _definitely_ will."

"Haha, I'll make sure to set my alarm," Jack responds, but Bitty already appears to have nodded off. "And maybe your alarm too," he says to himself.

In the end, he doesn't know Bitty's passcode for his phone, so he sets a reminder on his own to wake Bitty up before class. He piles their books on the desk and gently tugs at the covers to pull them up and around Bitty's shoulders.

He's almost out the door when he hears the murmured "good night, Jack" and wonders at the odd rhythm his heart settles into.

 

* * *

 

Jack almost cries when he slides into Bitty's bed. The sheets are cool, he's stripped down to his underwear, and his eyes slide shut fast against his will. They've been scratchy and hot since he first listened to Bitty's voicemail and heard the pain in his voice. In this soft bed he finally felt, with its cozy comforter and Bitty, safe, still sniffling but only residually, creeping towards happy and creeping towards Jack, wiggling under the covers and into Jack's arms, that he could soothe the burn of tears he's been holding back since he got in the car.

"Eight o'clock, right?" he mumbles into Bitty's hair. God, has Bitty's bed always been this comfortable?

"Yeah, that should give us enough time to get ready," Bitty says, a lot more coherent than Jack. "Although I don't think your suit is going to dry in time, honey."

"S'fine." Jack is clinging to consciousness with his fingertips and is drastically losing his motivation to hang on. Bitty says something else after that, but Jack drifts off before he can process it.

Despite his exhaustion, he sleeps poorly and fitfully. The panic he had felt at hearing Bitty's distress is turning into anxious waiting of the morning, filtering into his dreams.

Opening his eyes feels like peeling velcro off of a soft sweater. He definitely hasn't had enough sleep, not even a little bit, and certainly doesn't feel ready to come out to closest friends, the people whose opinions arguably mean the most to him.

But when Jack does convince himself to open his eyes, there's a soft hand on his shoulder and concerned brown eyes staring at him and everything feels a little easier.

"Jack," Bitty says, "I tried to let you sleep as long as I could. But you probably should get up now." Jack levers himself into a sitting position and blinks rapidly, seeing that Bitty is already dressed.

"I'm up," he finally declares. Bitty sighs.

"You're so tired," he says, trailing a hand gently down Jack's face. Jack leans into it and fights to keep his eyes open. "I wish I could offer you different clothes, but I think all I can offer you that'll fit is dry socks."

"Dry socks will be fantastic," Jack says, only half sure he's putting together complete sentences. "Wow, I need coffee."

"You need sleep. Maybe we should wait --"

"No, no. We're doing this. You replace sleep with caffeine all the time."

"I'm used to it, you're not." Bitty reaches over to snag Jack's shirt off the hanger. "Ooo, this is still a little wet."

"It can't be that -- oh, shit, that's cold." Even with the cold, Jack finishes pulling the shirt up onto his shoulders, starting the buttons and letting Bitty finish. Jack bites the bullet and stands up out of bed, reaching for his pants.

"Honey?" Bitty says, getting Jack's attention as he's threading his belt through the loops. Jack turns, and Bitty tosses a pair of socks at him. Jack settles back on the bed to put his shoes and socks on, and Bitty sits next to him, leaning against his shoulder. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready for coffee." Jack tugs on his sock and kisses the top of Bitty's head before turning back to his shoes. "I'm gonna need a nap before I head back to Providence. Coffee or no coffee."

"I think we can manage both coffee _and_ a nap."

"They told me I would be spoiled in the NHL."

 

* * *

 

Bitty takes Jack by the arm after he throws Shitty in the leaf pile and drags him up the stairs.

"You need a nap, Jack, and we still have to tell the frogs after that. You can't drive back home like this, and if you want to get home before dark. . ."

Jack feels something in him sag, at the idea of a nap in Bitty's bed and the idea of his own apartment. God, he's so tired. And strung out with. . . something like relief.

He strips quickly, and lets Bitty maneuver him into the bed, collapsing face first. He stretches out, sighing happily under the covers. The bed smells like boy in a comforting way, smells like _his_ boy, smells like Bitty's cologne and a little bit of sweat. 

Bitty's fingers slide into his hair, nails scratching pleasantly at his scalp. Jack hums with pleasure.

"That went well," Bitty says quietly.

"It did," Jack agrees.

"I can't believe we're that bad at hiding," Bitty says, and there's a little bit of worry in voice. _Hm._

"I think we're just bad at hiding because we didn't want to be hiding," Jack gets out.

Bitty's fingers stop.

" _We_ didn't?" Bitty asks, quietly, a little scared. _Oh_. Jack gets it now.

"I don't want to hide us at all," Jack says, a little clearer. "I'm glad we're telling the guys. I want to tell more people. I want to tell _everyone_."

"We're -- I thought we were --"

"Telling the guys just because you needed to?" Jack pushes himself up slightly. "Bitty. I needed to tell them, too. Not just because I hate seeing you unhappy. But because I'm happier not hiding too."

Jack hopes he got his point across; he thinks so, because Bitty's hand returns to his hair and encourages him to lay back down. Without thinking, Jack grabs Señor Bun from where he's fallen face first on the bed at some point and tucks it up against him.

"Get some sleep, sweetpea."

Jack doesn't function well when he first wakes up. He says weird things, has been known to refuse to speak in English until after coffee just for spite, and has kicked a teammate out of his bathroom for singing too loudly.

So when Jack wakes up later that afternoon to Holster, Ransom, Shitty, and Lardo looming over him, he says "I liked the way I woke up this morning a lot better".

"Dude," Ransom and Holster say in unison.

"Didn't need to know, brah," Shitty says.

"I'm fining you for that," Lardo tells him.

"We didn't do anything," says Jack, to general noises of disbelief.

"And we didn't come up here to shovel talk you," Shitty says.

"Oh. Really?"

"Really."

"Good. There's no need for it."

"We did come to talk about Bitty, though." Shitty crosses his arms and tries to look stern. With his short hair and all his clothes on, it almost works.

"Yeah?" Jack sits up a little. "I'm always down to talk about Bitty."

"Well. Isn't that --"

"Not now, Shits," Lardo reminds him. "We've got business."

"Right, right. Holster, Rans?"

Ransom starts.

"Look, Jack, we're really happy you and Bitty are happy and we know why you didn't tell us."

"And we know that that was putting Bitty under some pressure," Holster chimes in.

"But is that all that was going on? Bitty's been out of it for a little while now."

"Dude's been not quite himself lately," Lardo agrees.

"And we're just worried about him. Is there something else going on with him besides hiding you that could be wigging him out?"

Jack feels his stomach drop. Bitty has been - doing a fairly masterful job of keeping it together, Jack thinks, considering how many things he's worried about, even on a peripheral level. But Bitty has been talking about his parents so often, and then today, surprised by how much Jack was happy to tell people about them -

But he can't tell those things to the team behind Bitty's back, not without being a shitty boyfriend, so he grimaces instead.

"Um. . ."

The rest of them exchange glances.

"No words needed. We get it. You can't tell us without breaking the boyfriend secret keeping, we got it."

"But," Ransom says, "we're going to keep an eye on him. Make sure nothing gets on him this bad again."

"He can talk to us too, about stuff that's bothering him."

Jack realizes what they're trying to offer him. It's a support, for Bitty, when he can't be there, or shouldn't be there because it's good for them to have support other than each other. Bitty hasn't been happy lately, and it's not all to do with his and Jack's relationship, but the guys have got Bitty's back. It's a weight lifted off his shoulders.

"Yeah," Jack says. "Yeah, that's -- he really needs his team right now."

"We can do that," Shitty says, with a firm nod.

"Frogs are downstairs, when you two are ready."

And Jack realizes, maybe he can do something too. He turns a few ideas over in his head, as they leave and he start pulling on his clothes. He's decided on one when Bitty comes in to get him to tell the frogs.

". . . telling my parents about us?"

 

* * *

 

If Jack is going to be brutally honest, he's wanted to do this since the first time Bitty shoved a d-man for getting in his space. Which was four months ago. But he'd taken some deep breaths, reigned himself in, and frantically jerked himself off in the shower when he got home like any respectable closeted boy whose boyfriend has nosy roommates that will leave a party to come find him.

But now they're out to their friends who can cover for them, and more importantly, Bitty had scored a goal, and had an assist, and actually spent two minutes in the penalty box for elbowing an asshole in the ribs. Jack's been making a plan for this for the whole third period.

He's completed Step One of the Plan, which is: get Bitty alone in his room.

He's currently working on Step Two of the Plan, which is: kiss Bitty until Bitty can't stand up on his own.

He's not entirely sure what Step Three will be but he has a few ideas.

There's bass thumping solidly under their feet, and Jack can hear enough of the party that he makes sure they locked the door. He's got an arm wrapped solidly around the small of Bitty's back, pulling him up into an arch into Jack's mouth, and his other hand is cupping the back of Bitty's head, keeping him from hitting it on the door.

Bitty's hands slide down from Jack's hair to grip tightly in his shirt, and he whimpers as Jack draws his tongue out of Bitty's mouth to suck at his bottom lip before diving in again. Jack lets his hand drop from Bitty's waist to his ass, sliding underneath the waistband of Bitty's shorts and squeezing. Bitty's hips jerk up into his, and Jack tightens his grip to keep him there, letting him grind against where Jack's hip and thigh meet. Bitty breaks his mouth away to pant harshly and lets Jack prop him up.

"Jack," Bitty pants, as Jack moves his mouth down the line of his neck, tugging on the neckline of Bitty's shirt with his teeth. "Fuck, Jack." Jack straightens up long enough to strip Bitty of his tank, and then puts his mouth back on Bitty's chest, enjoying the shudder that goes down Bitty's body.

After that, it's all too easy to go to his knees.

He slowly pulls Bitty's shorts to his ankles. He eases his mouth up from Bitty's knee, through the fine hair until he's opening his mouth to let the tip of Bitty's dick sit in his mouth. He darts his tongue out to flick at the slit, and Bitty's knees go weak and he just manages to catch himself on Jack's shoulders. The sudden impact startles Jack, who luckily springs back before his mouth instinctually slams shut.

They stare at each other, wide eyed, both too aware of the danger they had just escaped.

"Maybe we should move to the bed?" Bitty suggests. Jack nods, and Bitty pulls him to his feet, stepping out of his shorts. Jack strides over to the bed, and lays down on his back and tugs Bitty up onto the bed. It's awkward, but Jack finally gets Bitty to kneel over him, who places his hands flat on the wall as support.

"Jack --"

Jack cups his hands around Bitty's ass, pulling him down. He has to thrash his shoulders against the mattress a little to scoot himself down, until he's at the right angle to pull Bitty towards his mouth.

"Oh God," Bitty says shakily, eyes sliding shut, as Jack sucks him in, successfully this time. Jack hums, pleased at the shaking in Bitty's thighs, the way Jack can see his mouth open and panting, his head hanging heavy between his arms as he relaxes into the pleasure.

Jack's going to have an awful crick in his neck and Bitty's back is not going to thank him but Jack loves this position, loves how obviously into it Bitty is, how the muscles in his thighs and core are pushing him rhythmically, shallowly into Jack's mouth.

Jack squeezes Bitty's ass, riding the hard thrust Bitty gives in response.

"Shit, sorry baby," Bitty gasps, letting his head hang back until all Jack can see is the long line of his throat. Jack sucks harder and bobs faster in response, until he can feel the muscles under his hands beginning to tense. Bitty goes still, and then comes, tucking his chin to chest with his mouth open, his brow furrowed, gasping with each wave, his entire body a hard line of tense muscle until the pleasure lets him go and he sags against the wall.

Jack lets Bitty slip out of his mouth carefully, then frantically reaches between Bitty's legs to fumble at his own fly. He finally manages to wrap a hand around his dick, squeezing hard and pumping fast, his hips jerking until he comes, finally snapping the tension that had been building in him all night.

Jack sighs in relief, idly wiping his hand off on his shirt before gripping Bitty's hips to help him lie down on the bed, noting the trembling in Bitty's arms from holding himself up on the wall. He gets them situated on their sides, resting his cheek on Bitty's head and wrapping himself around him. After a bit he tilts Bitty's head up so that they can kiss, deep and long.

"You know, I did wonder if we were going to be able to have sex in this bed," Bitty says, after their breathing has returned to normal. "We're used to a lot more space." Jack snorts.

"Went better than the door did."

"You almost bit my dick off," Bitty reminds him, then breaks down into hysterical laughter. "Can you imagine that trip to the ER?"

"Can you imagine having to tell Shitty he had to drive us to the ER like that?" Jack says, chuckling.

Bitty absently pats Jack on the chest.

"Guess we can thank those hockey reflexes for that."

"I think I'll pass on thanking my coaches for that," Jack says dryly. He sighs, starting to feel the clamminess making his clothes stick to him and the itch of sweat in his hair. "I do really want a shower, though."

"Should've thought of that one before you accosted me against the door in the middle of a kegster. Not that I mind at all, please feel free to do that anytime." Bitty arches his back, sighing pleasantly when his back cracked before curling back into Jack. "Probably shouldn't risk going out there looking like that."

Jack frowns.

"Looking like what?"

"Jack. You're not subtle. You have sex hair and come all over your shirt and you're glowing."

"Glowing?"

"It's a good look on you, but you're radiating 'I just had really good sex' vibes."

 _Fair_ , Jack thinks. He did just have really good sex. He still wants a shower though.

"Well, we can't use _your_ shower, but maybe we could use Chowder and Lardo's?"

"You could text one of them," Bitty says, stretching out on the bed and on his stomach in a position Jack knows he can fall asleep in. "But you're on your own, I'd fall asleep in the shower right now. I have wet wipes in my drawer if you want them, though."

Bitty grumbles when Jack has to rearrange him to fish his phone out of his jeans, which he's still wearing for some reason, and texts Chowder.

_can I use your shower? Kegster is occupying the rest_

_sure! I'm at Cait's though and I locked my door :/ lardo said she was going to stay with shitty this weekend, you could try hers?_

Jack groans internally. Lardo is usually the one reminding them to lock their doors so there's not a huge chance she didn't lock her own. Still, it's worth a shot. He slides out of bed, doing his best not to wipe come everywhere, fishing out a wet wipe and cleaning his hands. Very carefully, he eases his henley over his head, trying to keep the mess on the shirt and off of him.

"Did I get any in my hair?"

"Tilt your head down?" Jack complies. "Nope, you're good."

"Okay." Jack reluctantly tucks himself back into his underwear and redoes his jeans. He roots through his bag and grabs a pair of sweatpants. "I'm going to make a run for it."

"Hurry back."

"I will." Jack eases the door open, checking the hallway before bolting across the hallway to Lardo's door. He twists the knob, tense, but it opens and he steps into the room, breathing a sigh of relief.

Which quickly turns into a panicky gasp as he slams the door and bolts back into Bitty's room, not sticking around long enough to see if he'd been noticed.

"What's wrong?" Bitty says, alarmed. "Did you get caught?"

Jack presses his hands tight to his closed eyes in an attempt to block out what he just saw.

"Shitty and Lardo did _not_ go to Cambridge this weekend," is all he says.

"Oh no," Bitty says, half sympathetic, half amused. "You didn't knock? Did they notice you?"

" _They were supposed to be in Cambridge._ "

Bitty laughs.

"Take your pants off already, and come get in bed." Jack sighs, and kicks off his jeans and underwear, retrieving clean underwear from his bag. He fishes a pair out of Bitty's drawer and tosses them to him. He's just sliding under the covers when someone starts pounding on the door.

" _Jack Zimmermann!_ "

Bitty cracks up, while Jack pulls the covers up over his head.

"Jack's not here," Jack says fervently.

"They'll go away," Bitty says, snaking his hands under the covers to pet at Jack's hair. "But you're getting chirped to death tomorrow. Probably fined too."

"Well, maybe I'll just never leave this bed. Then I don't have to worry about it."

"I have no complaints about that plan. The NHL might."

"Fuck the NHL," Jack says nuzzling into Bitty's chest and yawning.

"Now that sounds like something you don't mean."

"Watch me."

 

* * *

 

Jack staying the night at the Haus is more common Bitty's senior year, but there's still nothing like waking up in the middle of the night in someone else's bed to throw you off. Jack blinks hard a few times before he focuses on the Beyonce poster across the room and the warm body stirring up against his back. That, and it's _freezing_ in Bitty's room.

Bitty shudders delicately and snuggles closer into him.

"Christ, it's cold."

"Well, we left the window open. I think we slept a little longer ten minutes."

"Definitely. I'm _starving_."

Jack, very carefully so as not to throw either of them off the narrow bed, turns around to face Bitty.

"Well, we didn't eat dinner."

"There is no edible food in this house, despite my best efforts," Bitty tells him. "Except for a maple apple pie, which you're supposed to take home with you and I don't recommend having it for dinner."

"Because it's full of sugar with little other nutrients?"

"Because then you'll have no pie to take home with you _and_ it's full of sugar with little other nutrients." Bitty lifts a hand to tenderly cup Jack's face. Jack leans into it, feeling at ease in a way he's become used to around Bitty. "Your bed head is _awful_ , wow," Bitty says, effectively wrecking an otherwise sweet moment.

Jack snorts and rolls out of bed, only to realize he's drastically underestimated the cold that the blankets were protecting them from.

"Shit!" He stuffs his hands under his armpits and hunches over, restlessly shifting his weight from foot to foot while Bitty laughs at him, still curled up under the covers.

"Are we getting food?" Bitty asks. Jack wrinkles his nose, looking through his bag for a shirt.

"I don't want to drive. I feel lazy."

"I don't mind driving, but I have no gas in the truck and I don't want to get it tonight." Bitty catches the shirt Jack throws to him and puts it on without getting out of bed.

"Let's take my car and you drive."

"Deal." Bitty swings his legs out of bed. "Fuck, that's cold."

"Wait, where are we going?"

Bitty hesitates.

"Okay, so I've been seeing this commercial and so I've got this ridiculous craving for --"

"The bacon cheeseburger from Carl's Jr?"

Bitty stares, mouth slightly open.

"Okay, Shitty's been joking about you being able to read my mind, but now I'm worried he's right."

"I watched the same Bruins game on TV as you did tonight, and that's a ridiculously effective commercial." Jack shrugs, pulling on his jacket. "Plus you've talked about making bacon for breakfast tomorrow at least four times unprompted since I've gotten here. Are you not going to put on a jacket?"

Bitty pauses in the middle of sliding his feet into shoes.

"No? We're going through the drive through. Your car has heated seats."

"I think you're so intolerant to cold you're coming out the other side of the spectrum," Jack tells him. "Like a slow motion backwards metamorphosis into a Canadian."

"Maybe it was a 'it gets worse before it gets better' thing, like a fever?" Bitty suggests as they head down the stairs. "Although I'm not saying it's not ungodly and inhumanly cold, I'm just saying it's not worth it to put on a jacket for a fifteen second walk to the car. Keys?"

Jack tosses him the keys. Bitty wastes no time cranking the heat and the seat warmers, and Jack sinks into the cocoon of the seat, slouching down and putting his feet on the dash. Bitty stares pointedly before driving away.

"I know that you know that's not safe."

"I am very comfortable," Jack replies. Bitty sighs and rolls his eyes, but there's a little smile tugging at his mouth that Jack wants to kiss. But he is very comfortable, so it'll have to wait. Even though he totally could though. Everyone knows and Jack could totally kiss him in his car, not caring about who sees.

Bitty's driving with his left hand, so Jack catches his right arm and pulls his hand across the console to press a kiss in the center of his palm, and then maneuvers Bitty's arm so that Bitty's hand bumps up again his own face. Bitty splutters.

"What the hell was that?"

"Wanted to kiss you, but you're so far away."

Bitty laughs.

"You're so ridiculous sometimes, Jack." Jack closes his eyes and grins happily to himself.

"You love me."

"I really, really do," Bitty says, catching Jack's hand and kissing the palm just like Jack did to him. "I get onion rings, you get fries, we split?"

"Sounds good," Jack says, watching as Bitty rolls down the window and then promptly sticks most of his upper torso out the window to order. Bitty does it every time he orders at a drive through, and he's even worse at a drive through bank, where Jack has seen him have to kneel on the seat in order to reach the buttons. Jack had laughed so hard his sides ached by the time they got home, and was so delighted at getting to learn something new about Bitty.

He's noticed recently that Bitty's accent gets stronger while ordering food, whether it be in a drive through or a restaurant. And so he stares unashamedly at Bitty, not caring what the drive through attendant thinks of them, if he recognizes them or not. Because everyone already knows that Jack is dating Bitty, and Jack absolutely does not care if they manage to find a story or a scandal in them getting food at one o'clock in the morning in their sweatpants because they feel asleep right after sex instead of eating dinner like they should have.

When they get back to the Haus, Bitty groans when they open the door to his room.

"How does it still smell like sex in here? We've had the window open for hours."

"Well, now it's going to smell like sex and cheeseburgers." Jack sets the food down on the desk to kneel on the bed and close the window. Bitty sighs, resigned.

"That's college, I guess."

They dole out the food and settle cross legged on the bed, using the window sill as a drink holder. Bitty groans when he takes the first bite of his burger.

"Good?" Jack asks, snagging a fry.

"Delicious, and absolutely not on your meal plan. I can feel the grease settling in my arteries already."

"I keep a stricter meal plan than any other guy on the team. I'm not going to feel guilty about this burger at all," Jack says, unwrapping his.

"Good," Bitty says, reaching out to pat Jack on the knee with the hand not holding his burger. "Don't feel guilty about food, ever. That's not healthy." He takes another bite, and keeps talking. "Also, please try not to get barbeque sauce on my bed."

Jack laughs, way louder than he should in a house full of sleeping people.

"Barbeque sauce would absolutely not be the worst thing to get on your sheets tonight, bud."

 

* * *

 

Two sets of parents eye Jack as he walks in from the back yard.

"Uh, where's Bits?" he asks, caught off guard. "We need to leave for the ceremony soon?"

"He needed a minute," Alicia tells him kindly.

"Ten minutes ago," Suzanne says, a little less kindly but no less fond.

"Oh, is he in his room? Should we go get him. . . ?"

Coach shakes his head. "This one's all you, kid."

 _Shit_ , Jack thinks. He climbs the stairs of the Haus two at a time, and finds Bitty sitting dejectedly on his bare mattress. _Fuck_ , Jack thinks.

"Hey, bud," Jack says. "Hey, what's going on?"

"I'm not ready to leave," Bitty says, wide eyed. "I'm not."

Jack recognizes the panic rising in Bitty's face and decides that Suzanne is just going to have to be fine with waiting more than just another minute.

"We're not leaving right this second," he lies. "Here, let's lay down for a second." Jack lays down on the stripped bed, spooning around Bitty from behind and holding on tight. From this angle, Jack can see the empty room and Chowder's closed door, admittedly depressing sights.

"They lie," Jack murmurs lowly into Bitty's hair, "when they say that college is the best four years of your life."

Bitty makes a disbelieving sound.

"I know after college is terrifying. It's really fucking scary," Jack continues, rubbing Bitty's arm. "But you can handle all of it. You've had a really great four years, Bits, but think about all the things that made college miserable. Homework, the library. You're losing _that_ , but you're keeping all the things that you liked about college. Your friends, your independence. There's really big things coming up for you and that's scary, but you're going to be great."

"Really?" Bitty says, in a really small voice.

"Yes," Jack says firmly. "But if we don't leave right now for the ceremony your mom is going to eat the both of us alive and we won't live to see tomorrow."

Bitty laughs, watery but sincere.

"Okay," Bitty says, sitting up. "Okay. I'm ready." Jack stands and kisses his forehead.

"Yes, you are."

Bitty looks around the room.

"I can't say I'm too unhappy about leaving this bed behind," Bitty says, wiping at his eyes and patting the bare mattress.

"Eh, it did okay," Jack says, shrugging. "I might have to take up yoga though. Don't know how I'll get my stretching in if it's not bending myself into a pretzel to fit us on that mattress."

"Excuse you," Bitty gasps, indignant. "You did _not_ just imply that _you_ do the work when it comes to bendy positions, Mr. 'Haha Bits Can You Actually Put Your Foot Behind Your Head'."

"I'm putting that on the back of my jersey next season," Jack informs him. A parent conspicuously clears their throat downstairs and Jack and Bitty exchange amused glances.

"We're coming," Bitty shouts, then turns the shade of red Jack is sure his own face is as they giggle helplessly.

"Crisse," Jack gasps, slinging his arm around Bitty's shoulders and tugging him close to his own body as he steers them towards the stairs. "Let's go before we die, either of innuendo or parental impatience."

Bitty closes the door, and they head down the stairs, together.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been brought to you by Carl's Jr's Western Bacon Cheeseburger. Damn them and their effective commercials.
> 
> I'm on tumblr at [marchingatmidnight](http://marchingatmidnight.tumblr.com/) if you want to come yell with me about how hard it is to make characters get dressed and undressed without boring people to death.


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